


Extras

by heyprocrastination



Series: The Bargain 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, lowkey destiel in the first chapter, mostly just implied though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyprocrastination/pseuds/heyprocrastination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few extra snippets of Annika's life with the Winchesters after the whole Lucifer mess.<br/>(reading the first work in this series is highly recommended before reading this! You'll be very confused if you don't.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell and Innuendos

**Author's Note:**

> (takes place directly after The Bargain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean’s eyes widen while Castiel simply looks confused. I clear my throat again and say, “Ah, sorry, something in my throat. Must be all the -cough- gayness in this room. Ahem, sorry, dust. I said dust.”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, standing up on wobbly legs. “I’ve been to Hell and back. Literally. Ha.”

“What’s your name?” Dean asks.

“Annika Rutherford,” I answer, glancing around the room. “How’d I get back? How did Sam get back?”

“Well, Castiel pulled him out without his soul, and then Death pulled his soul out along with you,” Dean says, shrugging.

“Death,” I repeat incredulously. “As in, the Horseman.”

“Yup,” Dean affirms.

“Jesus, you Winchesters,” I let out a breath of air. I frown when I realize something’s missing. “How come I don’t remember… it. You know.”

“Death put up a wall in our minds,” Sam explains. “It blocks the memories. Without it, we’d probably be insane right now.”

“Fantastic,” I say. “Awesome. Love insanity.”

“So for now, I think it’s best if you stay with us,” Dean says. “You know, you being Lucifer’s vessel and all that.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I nod. My eyes flicker over to the stoic figure behind Dean. “Uh, who’s he?”

Dean turns around and starts, taking a step back. “Personal space, Cas! Jesus. Um, Annika, this is Castiel. The one who pulled Sam out of the Cage.”

“I am an angel of the Lord,” Castiel supplies helpfully.

“You were the one I felt,” I say suddenly.

“Felt?” Castiel repeats with a frown. He tilts his head to the side. “You remember?”

“I…” My eyebrows furrow together. “There was a light. I remember thinking that it didn’t belong there, and…” I shake my head in frustration. “That’s it.”

“Try not to remember anything,” Dean cautions. “If you poke the wall too hard, it’ll break.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, inclining my head. “Anyway, I’m guessing the whole Lucifer versus Michael thing was called off?”

“Yes,” Castiel says. “Since Lilith can’t be killed again to break the final seal, there’s no way to free Lucifer from the Cage. Unless, of course, another angel were to enter the Cage and pull him out. And I suppose they could bind Death and-”

“Cas,” Dean interrupts. “We get it. A lot could go wrong.”

They stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments and I bite my lip to hide a grin.

I glance over to Sam, who’s watching them exasperatedly, and catch his eye. I raise my eyebrows in a silent question as I glance at the two of them then back at Sam. He rolls his eyes and nods.

“Ahem,” I clear my throat loudly. They break their gazes and turn to look at me. “Nice staring contest there. You should probably, you know-” I fake a cough as I say, “Get a room.”

Dean’s eyes widen while Castiel simply looks confused. I clear my throat again and say, “Ah, sorry, something in my throat. Must be all the - _ cough _ \- gayness in this room. Ahem, sorry, dust. I said dust.”

Sam looks to be on the verge of bursting into laughter.

“Dust is about 80 percent dead human skin,” Castiel says.

“I really did not need to know that,” I say, cringing.

“Are- are you insinuating that-” Dean starts, taking a step forward.

“It’s obvious to everyone but you two, apparently,” I interrupt with a wink. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes- he looks a bit like a fish out of water. He finally resorts to, “I have a gun.”

“Or are you just happy to see him?” I shoot back, raising an eyebrow. 

Dean’s at a loss for words, while Castiel doesn’t seem to understand the innuendo. Sam finally gives in and collapses into fits of laughter.  
“Yeah, we’re keeping you,” Sam says breathlessly.


	2. Mr. Speight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well I’ll be damned,” Gabriel says, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place some time after the first chapter.

“Gay porn,” Dean repeats incredulously.

“Just reading what he said,” the coroner says with a shrug. She holds out the plastic baggie containing a piece of paper within it, and I take it. “See for yourself.”

Sam and Dean peer over my shoulder at the victim’s suicide note.

“So Peter Grant committed suicide because…” I read off of the paper with a raised eyebrow, “‘The gay porn won’t stop. I can’t get it out of my head. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s been playing 24/7 for weeks. I’ve never seen any of it in my life, it’s awful. I can’t sleep, I can’t work, I can’t concentrate. I can’t take it anymore.’”

“Yes,” the coroner says. She sighs. “It’s a weird one, I’ll give you that.”

I exchange looks with the Winchesters. 

“Thank you for your time,” Sam says, giving the coroner a smile as we leave.   


-

“So get this,” Sam says as he settles into the bar stool next to Dean and I. “The bartender is saying that Grant was a major homophobe.”

“A major homophobe, with gay porn playing nonstop in his head,” I clarify, and Sam nods.

“Trickster?” Dean asks.

“Fits their M.O.,” Sam says with a shrug. “Handing out justice to douchebags and all that.”

“So if I remember correctly, his butler found the body,” I say. “His butler, who was hired a couple weeks ago.”

“Huh,” Sam says thoughtfully. “Right about when his “visions” started.”

“We should go question him as the FBI,” I say, “and if we’re right, we can stake him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean says. “Let’s go.”

-

The door of the mansion is opened by a petite blonde girl dressed in a maid’s outfit.

“Hi,” I greet her, pulling my badge out and flashing it at her. “I’m Agent Ryan, these are Agents Ackles and Padalecki. We’re here about the Grant case. May we come in?”

“Um, yes, of course,” she says, looking flustered, stepping backwards to let us in. “Uh, I didn’t realize that the case was still open.”

“It’s been reopened in light of new evidence,” I lie smoothly as I step over the threshold and into the grand entrance hall. My eyes sweep over the blatant display of wealth. A high, arching ceiling of glass allows for natural lighting, and the spotless marble floors sparkle in the sunlight. A fountain stands in the center, a steady trickle of water flowing out of the carved stone angel’s horn. My lips twitch in a barely suppressed smile. Well, isn’t that ironic- a statue of Gabriel, a Trickster, in the hall of a man killed by a Trickster.

“We apologize for any inconvenience,” Sam says. “May we speak to the butler? He was the one who found the body, correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Speight,” the maid says, wringing her hands together. “Oh, it must’ve been awful. Here, why don’t you make yourselves comfortable in the sitting room, and I’ll go fetch him for you.”

She opens a nearby door, and we head inside the room. It’s as grand as the outside of the mansion- filled with plush couches, delicate glass figurines, and undoubtedly priceless paintings. She shuts the door behind us, and we linger awkwardly by the couches, not willing to risk sitting down.

“Remember, ask questions first and stab later,” I say, glancing at Dean. He rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah.”

The doorknob turns and we snap to attention, the Winchesters taking a reflexive step in front of me. I resist the urge to sigh in exasperation- their worry is well-founded, I guess, since I’m a rookie hunter.

The butler -Mr. Speight- steps in and closes the door behind him before turning around to face us. My jaw drops and my eyes widen in shock at the familiar face.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Gabriel says, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

“You’re alive!” I blurt out, taking a few steps forward.

Gabriel’s eyes land on me and widen almost imperceptibly. There’s a pause as he looks at me, presumably startled that I’m no longer Lucifer.

“Annika Rutherford,” he says, and I nod in confirmation. “How, exactly, are you alive?”

“I could ask the same of you,” I say, tilting my head. “Lucifer killed you. I would know.”

“It was another illusion,” he says. “Thanks for the warning, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.” My lips quirk into a slight smile. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“... You’re not dead,” Dean says slowly.

“Bit slow on the uptake, are we?” Gabriel asks, raising an eyebrow. “How are  _ you _ alive, Annika?”

“I told you,” I say. “I made a deal with the Devil. I got to live after he was done with me.”

“Smart,” Gabriel says. “How’d that go, anyways? I heard he got tossed back in the Cage.”

“I shoved him in,” I say nonchalantly. “My brother played defensive tackle in highschool and college. I picked up a few tricks. And before you ask, yes, that means I got sucked in with him. I’d rather not talk about it.”

Gabriel regards me with something like respect. “The apocalypse, diverted by a twenty year-old girl and two brothers with as many daddy issues as an angel. Bet Lucifer never saw that coming.”  
“No,” I say with a wry smile. “He didn’t.”


End file.
